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He whistled. “If we get one going, this whole forest will burn down and possibly part of the town.”
“If we’re going to weaken Circe and cut her off from her power, we have no choice. She’s drawing strength from what she’s done here. It has to be released.”
Marissa bobbed her head. “She’s right. I can feel the wrongness. It’s sunk into everything around: trees, ground. It’s even permeating the air.”
“She had some bottles of cooking oil inside. We can soak some sheets with it and use them as wicks,” Baptiste suggested.
In short order, they’d gathered as many flammable items as they could find, including bottles of alcohol. They created a trail that started from the motorcycle and branched out into the forest and the cottage.
Baptiste eyed their work with satisfaction. “This should get a decent blaze going.”
“Your optimism is commendable considering the moist decay will resist our attempt to cleanse,” Daphne muttered.
“Here’s to hoping I make it to my bike before the flames,” Marissa chirped. “At least this time I can use the driveway and not cut through the woods.”
“You and Daphne should take the bike. I’m better equipped to run,” he offered. “Just take my clothes with you so I don’t end up riding naked once I get to the road.”
“Now that would a sight to see.” Marissa laughed.
“The fire won’t move that quickly,” Daphne huffed. “No one has to get naked.”
She’s jealous again! Garou exclaimed.
Marissa waggled her fingers. “Actually, while the offer is nice, I planned to stay behind so I can make sure the flames take proper hold.”
“What if Circe is nearby?” Baptiste countered. “Or the fire spreads faster than expected?”
“I don’t think she’s around. As for the other, I can shield myself from the worst of it and I am pretty fast on my feet. I used to run track.”
Daphne nodded. “She’s correct. Circe is no longer here. The ominous weight of this place lessened once she disappeared.”
“Shoo!” Marissa waved them off. “Let’s get this shithole burning before that changes. I’ll meet you on the road.”
“Ready?” he queried, seeing that Daphne appeared lost in thought.
She shook herself. “Yes.”
Baptiste led the way to the motorcycle and straddled it, knowing his bulk left but a tiny sliver of seat at his back. Daphne pursed her lips at the sight.
“Get on.” He grabbed the handles and the motor growled.
“There isn’t much room,” she noted.
“Not much I can do about that, Psycho, other than tell you to cuddle up close and hold on tight,” he advised.
“I do not cuddle,” she grumbled as she swung her leg over the bike. Her arms went around his wide middle, too wide for her hands to touch. It plastered her against his back. He enjoyed the closeness a little too much.
She fits just right.
Indeed, she did.
He put a hand over hers. “It’s going to be noisy and windy. Whatever you do, don’t let go.”
“I’m not an idiot.”
“I’m aware you’re not. But this is going to be a new experience for you. Just giving you some warning.”
Expecting a sassy retort, her “Thank you,” took him by surprise.
